This blog shows work prior to 2008. For new writing, click the link listed directly above.
THIS BLOG IS AN ANONYMOUS EXCHANGE OF JOURNAL WRITING BETWEEN NORTH AND SOUTH COUNTY COMMUNITY SCHOOLS.

Saturday, March 15, 2008

07-08 Writing Exchange VI

Journal #54
I remember when I lived in Orland. It was all about drugs. I even held people up for cash to get drugs. I was into coke, crystal, and pcp. Then I moved here and started to thizz all the time. My Great Grandma died recently and now my Grandma is smoking again. My mom is taking it hard as well. My dad is locked up again for shooting someone and the drugs. I’m trying to do good so I don’t end up like him. I love him, but he needs to be in prison.

Journal #55
If you really knew me you would know that I am really a kind person and I’ll do whatever I can to help people in need. If you really knew me you would know about my scar. If you really knew me you would know that I am always on the edge and it’s not that hard to push me off. If you really knew me you would know my life has never been easy.

Journal #56
**** it. These past two weeks have been hell at school and at home. I had good intentions of coming to school, but now I’m slipping away. Ever since I found out our school is closing for good, I don’t want to come to school; I don’t want to do my work. It’s just that I learned not to get attached to people because they always turn on me. If only you knew how hard it was for me to start coming to this ******* school. It took me at least two weeks to start getting the hang of it and after a while I got attached. Now the doors will be closing down. My thoughts of school right now are, **** it. **** the kids, the teachers, the principal, and the government. **** the world.

Journal #57
I have had a lot of hard times. The hardest times were when my mom was locked up for like three years. My mom missed several of my birthdays. She wasn’t locked up for three years straight, but I mean the total time she has been in. She would get locked up for two or three months before my birthday. She has been in and out a lot throughout my becoming a teen. It was the time I needed my mom the most.
This last time she got locked up she was gone a whole year, but she was in prison this time. I was really worried about her. I have always lived with her outside of the times she has been locked up. I lived with my dad when my mom was behind bars. I was 15 years old. I started doing dope, hanging around older people, and never going home. I have been back with my Mom for quite a while. Now I am 17 and don’t drink or do drugs.


Journal #58
If you really knew me you would know I’ve come a long way. You would know I used to be crazy. If you really knew me you would know that I’ve ****** up a lot in my life. You would know I have put a person in the hospital, been arrested, and locked up quite a few times.
If your really knew me you would know that I had a ****** up childhood. If you really knew me you would know that I used to get beat by my parents, siblings, and even some of my mom’s boyfriends. I too have been to the hospital.
If you really knew me you would know I’ve been through a lot of ****. If you really knew me you would know that I’m going to get past all of this and have a real life. I’m not going to let the pat hold me down anymore.

Journal #59
If you really knew me you would know that most of the time I care more about my friends than I do about myself. If you really knew me you would know that I’m filled with a lot of pain though it doesn’t seem that way. If you really knew me you would know that my mom was my best friend and I tried to keep her safe. I would start fights at school just so I could go home to make sure she was OK. If you really knew me you would know that my friends were one of the main things that got me through my mom’s death.

Journal #60
Lately I haven’t been myself. It feels like I’ve been slipping back into the drug world. It had been 6 months since I smoked. I promised myself I would never do it again but lately I’ve been having emotional problems. You know, feeling like everybody’s sick of looking at me, sick of being present. I finally let my urge take over. I went and got high last night. I don’t know what I was thinking. It is obvious that I wasn’t after I smoked a teener. I asked myself, “What the **** am I doing? I am nothing but a **** up. Now I am just like my father: a despicable, disgusting, selfish piece of ****.

Journal #61
I am so happy and proud of myself. Everything in my life is going so good right now. I am finally getting off probation after almost 4 years. It just feels great. My mom and I are getting along better than ever before. I guess once you’re so used to everything going so bad, when it starts to turn around, it is like you just don’t know how to respond to it. Usually I am always messing stuff up, but not this time. So many people have helped me try to fix problems that I have had. I think that if it were not for everyone’s help, I just don’t know what would have happened to me.

Friday, March 7, 2008

07-08 Writing Exchange V

Journal #48
If you really knew me you would know I blew my chance of being who I wanted to be,
I’ve created a new image;
that is a reflex to me,
It is filled with violence and poverty,
Being a leader and not following,
Taking my own path,
Causing my own wrath,
If you really knew me you would know I try to do right but always do the wrongs.
Try to do good but always proceed to the bad,
Locked in a cell just like my Dad,
If you really knew me you would know I hustle for money to get my dough
If you really knew me you would know this isn’t the path that I wanted to go,
If you really knew me you would know my dreams have all been blown
If you really knew me you would know I continue for reasons that I don’t know
filled with doubt, fake hope.

Journal #49
If you really knew me you would know that I have been through so much. You would know I have been abused physically and mentally. If you really knew me you would know that I have been in a gang ever since I was 14 years old and that I have lost family members threw being a gang member. I you really knew me you would know how hard it is being a new kid in town. If you really knew me you would know how it feels to not look into your mother’s eyes anymore and tell her how much you love her.

Journal #50
If you really knew me you would know I have been through a lot. My mother has been an addict my whole life. My real father raped and beat my sister. If you really knew me you would know I am addicted to a razor blade: seeing the ruby liquid oozing from my body. If you really knew me you would know I found the love of my life, but that’s been a struggle. If you really knew me you would know I lost the child I was bearing and lost a part of me. If you really knew me you wouldn’t question my attitude, but no one really knows me.

Journal #51
Lately I’ve been feeling all down and depressed. It’s not that lowest point I have had in my life, but ***** not going the way I want it to. My boyfriends locked up. As is, I am not good at relationships and being away from him is hard. Sometimes I don’t know what to do. My family is chaotic. As usual, my younger sister and I fight constantly. My best friend is getting on my nerves. It always seems to happen that I’ll have a best friend for 3-5 months and then we start to have problems. Well, I don’t want that to happen to us, but that is how it seems to be going. Like I said, I have major relationship problems. It’s hard cause I think I was never shown good examples of relationships. There seems to be issues with boyfriends, friends, family, or whoever. It just seems like I’ll never be able to have real relationships. Life goes on. I’ll be OK either way.

Journal #52
If you really knew me you would know that I’m a straight up guy. I don’t like to be ****** with and I try to be honest. If you really knew me you would know once I get the ball, you’re at my mercy. If you really knew me, you would know that I would rather shoot a jump shot than take a hit of weed or play a basketball game than smoke a blunt. If you really knew me you would know that I’m going to make it.

Journal #53
If you really knew me you would know I hide my pain with anger with a smile.
If you really knew me you would know I had a ****** up childhood.
If you really knew me you would know I’m afraid of my dad.
If you really knew me you would know my deepest dark secret has been held since I was eight.
If you really knew me you would know that I hated Saturdays when my mom went to work.
If you really knew me you would know why I hate giving hugs to men.
If you really knew me you would know how protective I am towards my little sister.
If you really knew me you would know that I’m scared of my mom’s past boyfriend.
If you really knew me you would know that it’s my fault why my mom isn’t happy.
If you really knew me you would know I blame myself for everything that went wrong when I was a kid.
If you really knew me you would know that me writing this is a huge step for me that I was willing to take.
I just wish you really did know me.

Wednesday, March 5, 2008

07-08 Writinge Exchange IV

Journal #32

I remember the hate I felt toward everyone including myself.Hating my parents for abandoning me to get their fixand the cops for being pricks.They would take my parents away and lock them up almost every year.I remember going to foster home after foster home,always feeling so alone.The threats these strange new people told to mewhich made me not want to be.I remember after being away from my parents for more than 3 years I couldn’t feel for them anymore.I couldn’t let out any tears.I smoked dope at 14 yearsDrank so many beersBut yet I still couldn’t cry.I remember feeling I just wanted to die.

Journal #33

****…Why do I feel like falling back to my old habits? I have been doing so good but it’s life that is changing. I quit gang banging and I’m trying to get along with the people that were my so called “Enemies,” but I can’t. Every time I see them it brings up anger for me. Not for the gang they are in, just that they were the one’s that hurt me and my family. Now that I don’t kick it or talk to my old friends, I feel like a new person, but society still see’s me the same. What did I do to be looked at so bad? I didn’t kill anyone! I might have gotten into fights, but most teens do that, right?Now that most of my friends are gone either to prison, in jail, or left town, I don’t feel so protected anymore. I stay home and if I go out, it’s either my front porch or a locally, but I don’t leave my apartments. It’s not the fact that I’m scared. It’s just that my mind is seeing different.I make better decisions but I know I’m feeling like giving up and I don’t know why. The people that I thought I would never see, that I hurt over a colored bandana, are getting closer to me than ever. They started coming to my school. Now I have to learn how to cope with them being in the same classroom as me but every time I see them it brings up so many memories of my old self. In some ways, I miss my old self, but all it was, was just a part of my life that I’m going to put in the past like the other **** that made me stronger and wiser.I thought being on probation was going to be so hard for me to deal with, but now it’s helping me from doing things that would put me back in the hall. Plus, my probation officer is not on my *** because I am doing what I am supposed to. Wow, I thought I would never change and now I’ve completely done a 180 in my life and I’m happy. I’m just afraid I’m going to go back to my old habits, self, etc.

Journal #34

I remember when I was a little boy and my father took my little brother and bounced out. I remember seeing him early that morning. When I got home from school later that day, I walked in to see my mother crying on the phone with the police. I didn’t know why until she got off the phone.I asked her why she was crying. She told me, but I was confused. I was so young then and didn’t know what to do. I asked if the cops were going to help. My mom told me there was nothing they could do. I remember crying, thinking I was never going to see my brother again. My mom told me I would, but to this day nothing has ever been the same.

Journal #35

I remember just the other day after my fiancés court date, wondering about the same thing, “Does God really exist?” A lot of things have happened where I just have to ask myself that question over and over again. I feel like if He really does exist, why didn’t he get my fiancé out on probation for something he didn’t even do? Now he’s getting sent to prison while I raise our 8 month old daughter and give birth to our son soon.I think if He really did exist, he wouldn’t let my daughter grow up fatherless, let alone another child. Sometimes I hate God. It feels like He hasn’t been fair to me. Sometimes I ask myself what the **** did I do wrong? If I did something wrong, wasn’t my childhood enough to pay for it?Anyways, it’s weird how I am feeling because there are also times where I thank Him for everything good that I do have: like my daughter. She’s the only thing holding me together right now. I really don’t know what I’d be doing right now if I didn’t have her. I really don’t. I think of what my life used to be before her and when I do that, I go back to my original question, “Does God really exist?”

Journal #36

I remember the days when I could trust people. I remember how it was when I was little, when I didn’t know if something was wrong. I just knew the good and everything seemed OK. I miss that life. It’s not so stressful and you don’t have so many cares when you are that little. I really think the whole world should be like that. What’s the point of the bad things? What’s the point of doing them? I just get in more trouble.When I was little, I used to trust everybody. Now I don’t trust anyone. I don’t like that. I m kind of like a turtle; I have a guard around my emotions. I can’t even get into them. My brain doesn’t even trust me enough to let me care about something or somebody.I feel bad because I have a girl who loves me and I love back, but I don’t trust and if I don’t’ trust someone, I lie to them. I feel bad because we want to be together but we can’t because I can’t stop lying to her. I need help.

Journal #37

I remember blue doors and white bricksHope my minds playing ******* tricks.Concrete floors and bright lights.Hope I don’t get into too many fights.I remember 7 minute phone calls and 3 minute showers.Locked in our cells for endless hours.

Journal #38

I remember the sound of my mom crying every time we would go home to my step dad’s house. She would always tell me to go across the street to her friend’s house and to come back in an hour. I remember every time I would come back home my mom would cry and it made me feel so sad. I never knew exactly what happened so my mom, but pictures would have fallen from the wall and she would have a red marking on her face. Every time they would fight, I felt like it was somehow my fault.

Journal #39

I remember standing in the cold rainI remember the sound of a crackling cigarette in the dead silence of the night.I remember waking up and not knowing where I was.I remember looking all day for something to eat.I remember going on snack missions.I remember leaving and hearing a little girl yelling, “No, don’t go! I’ll miss you too much,” as she wrapped her arms around my legs.I remember how hard the rocks are by the river. They don’t work so good as a bed. Jackets don’t keep out all of the chill.I remember waking up to people yelling and screaming about nothing.I remember waking up alone.I don’t know how long these things will have to go on.I just hope my dreams come true, especially my biggest one of all: tolerance.

Journal #40

How do I do it: raise a child that we never meant to be here? Daddy’s gang affiliated, mommy can’t do it alone. What if the other gang tries coming for daddy. If they can’t get daddy, what if they come for mommy? Our child will not be an orphan. I can’t let that happen. My little boy will not grow up to be like daddy. My little girl will not be torn like mommy. My baby, it will not be a srew-up.

Journal #41

I just got out of the hall about a month or two ago. Before I went to the hall, I was so ****** up: drinking and doing powder almost every day. If I didn’t have a beer or any type of drink, it felt like I couldn’t function. I couldn’t even get out of bed. If I did, it was only to drink. It’s a new year now and I promised myself that I wouldn’t get another drunk in public, but on New Year’s, I got to thinking about my mom. She is going through so much, but I can’t stay with her because of her drug problem. So everything in my life is going so wrong. Everything that I try to do good always ends up a mess. Well, today my probation officer and my case worker came to my school and told me that I have to move to another town. I don’t even know anyone there.

Journal #42

I remember a house full of tweakers. I remember me as a 14 year old girl doing dope. I remember hearing BENTIF banging on the door, “Drug Task Force, open the door!” I remember everyone trying to hide there ****. I remember my 16 year old brother opening the door. I remember mom was not home, she was at her boyfriend’s. I remember all the cops. I remember everyone was in handcuffs besides me because they didn’t have enough. I remember my brother saying, “Anything you find is mine.” I remember after they raided our whole apartment, they took everyone besides me and two guys down to the patty wagon. I remember the cops didn’t take one of the guy’s cell phones. I remember the guy called my 27 year old brother and told him his little sister was at home with BENTIF. He arrived, opened the door, and yelled inside to me, “Don’t say anything.” I said, “I know.” The cops slammed the door. I remember him yelling at the cops, “Let me talk to my little sister.” I remember the cops checking to see if he had a warrant so they could arrest him too. I remember they saw my purse and asked whose it was. I didn’t respond, but one of the guys who didn’t get arrested told them it was mine. I remember they asked me if they could search it. I said, “No,” but they did. I remember they found a glass pipe and a baggy of dope. I remember the interrogated me for two hours without my parents knowing. I remember they were going to take me to the hall. I remember my brother convinced the cops to let me go home with him. I remember the next day going home to my dad’s house. I remember really disappointing my dad and one of my brothers.

Journal #43

I remember the little kid that once was an angel.I remember getting put in a chamber.I remember what freedom once felt like.Now I’m locked in a cell full of anger.I remember blaming other people for the stuff I did.I remember the police saying I was a defiant kid.But I only have one life to live.And my mom loves me no matter what kind of **** I did.I remember our school was the only school that I have ever liked and now it is going to close.

Journal #44

I remember sleeping in a van and having no tan.I remember my mom telling me to go home, but being too stoned.I remember robbing stores and dirty whores.I remember slimy tweakers and filthy sneakers.I remember having no money and it wasn’t that funny.I remember dope and your sister’s hope.

Journal #45

I remember promising myself I would always take care of my mom. I remember staying with her at all times, even when she was cooking and cleaning. I guess that is why I like to cook and clean. And one day I remember my mom saying to my dad, “I’m fed up with you always hitting me and ****. I’m packing up my things and leaving with my son.” When we got into the car she said, “Promise me that you’ll never hit or disrespect a girl.” I promised. I promised I would treat a woman the way I wanted to be treated and that if she wanted to do something fun, I would take her. Journal #46 I remember when I could run as fast as the wind.I remember when I wanted to be just like my dad.I remember the day I saw who he really was.Now all I remember is how much I hate him and yes, I know hate is a strong word. I mean it to its fullest and deepest meaning.I remember when I was a kid and did not know what hate or pain or regret or let down meant or felt like.I wish I didn’t remember at all.

Journal #47

I remember when our school went to San Francisco on a field trip. I remember we got to the hostel, unloaded the vans, and put our bags in our rooms. That night we walked to Mel’s Diner and ate the best hamburgers I have ever eaten in my life. The next day we went to the Exploratorium and then went and had lunch at the Wave Organ. I remember at Pier 39 the sounds of the sea lions. I remember the flashes of all of the cameras. I remember the boat ride to Alcatraz and the tour around the island. I remember the van ride home when we all fell asleep and woke up in Chico. I remember it was pouring rain and Scott Bailey drove me home.

07-08 Writing Exchange III

Writing Exchange III
January 27, 2008

Journal #22
Lately I’ve been thinking a lot about all kinds of things: about this one special girl, about how I might be getting off probation soon, and about how I’m going to be moving back with my mom soon. All of these things make me feel great, but there is another thing that seems to take over my thoughts. It doesn’t matter how good my life is going, when I think of this I almost cry every time and I am not one to cry. It is my daughter. I have no ill feelings about having her too early in life, but it is that I haven’t been able to see her for a long time, years. She just turned three. Her mom moved out of the area and she won’t tell me where she is or let me see her. I miss her so much. I love her with all of my heart and I always will. It hurts so much every time I think about her. I’ll do everything in my power to find her.

Journal #23
I’m just trying to get my life straight. It was never horrible, but I definitely was not on the right track. I just thank God that I messed up early in life because I have time to get my **** together. I’m good at numerous things, hobbies and activities, however, I have no clue what I want to seriously pursue. What I do know is that it’s not gonna be anything too extreme. A good paying job in a small town would do it for me. Some property in the mountains and a family would be ideal. I refuse to live in a city. I hate the whole industrial concrete look when I could be surrounded by trees. I guess you could say I’m a hippie at heart. I love nature. It’s the only thing that will always be breath taking.

Journal #24
Every day I think about running away because I’m usually pissed off at my mom and dad. If I get in trouble, my dad always says, “Do you want to fight me?” I say no and he asks why. I respond, “Because you’re bigger than me and I don’t want to go to school with a missing tooth or a black eye.” My mom says, “You’re lucky I don’t start wailing on your ass.”About a month ago, I told my uncle something that they did not want me to and my dad said, “I’m really thinking about beating the **** out of you.” My mom did. She grabbed a spatula and left long welts across my cheeks and arms. Afterwards, she said she was sorry, but I didn’t accept it. She says it too much. This is why I think about running away. Today is one of those days.

Journal #25
I was a little girl lost in the drug worldI remember my dad just getting out of prison and instantly getting a sackI heard him asking my mom if she would help him shoot upI saw the needleI worried that one day he would get bad drugsI felt I was gonna be just like himI am recently clean and I thank God for thatI think the real world is nothing but pain and sufferingI try to stay away from all of this ******** but it’s hardI feel depressed and angryI forgive my father for bringing meth into my lifeI will graduate and I will be someoneI choose to say no to meth as I slowly heal my addictionI dream of getting away from this place I call hellI hope I will be able to say no for the rest of High SchoolI predict I will make it to collegeI know I will be a way better person than my father.

Journal #26
Why is it that we always find ourselves at night? Last night I was standing on my back porch smoking a cigarette. It was around 12 AM. I wasn’t really even thinking about anything, but somehow my mind wandered to the fact that I don’t really fit in anywhere. I never felt like I really had a home. I mean, sure I lived in houses, had friends, but that never really seemed to matter. In the distance, I heard a rabbit’s dying squeals, and the owl’s hoot. I heard a dog barking and looked towards it. There was nothing there: just trees. I just figured it was the neighbors. I took another drag and looked up as I exhaled. The moon had a soft blanket of clouds covering it, but it still shone through, bathing everything in a grayish-white light. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, and finally felt like I belonged. I’ve been searching to find my home for so long, but I finally understand. Home is nowhere, but everywhere around you.

Journal #27
This morning when I woke up, I sat there and stared at the wall, asking myself, “What am I doing alive and why am I waking up every morning.” As I walk into the bathroom, I always hear a rude comment from my guardian’s mouth. This morning it was, “When you wake up you **** up everybody’s day.” As I got ready and looked in the mirror, she asked, “Why are you trying to look cute, nobody is going to look at you?” Sometimes I feel like running away, but I know that will not help me with probation or anything. My life started going bad at the age of 9. I was abused by my step dad. He started raping me. It made me feel so sad and sick inside. At 12, I told my mom and it broke her heart. I had to let someone know. That was when I started cutting.

Journal #28
I was a hardcore pothead. I remember going out to steal weed and having guns aimed at my head. I had gotten away with it a few times. I guess I’m lucky to not have to pay for all of my crimes.I am a better person now. I need to get a job, but how? I have a felony on my record.

Journal #29
I was heading to prison. I remember shooting that man cause of the constant criticism. I heard, “Let’s talk it out,” but the trigger dropped instead. What I thought I saw when I opened my eyes was a body lying dead. He took two bullets: one to the stomach and one to the head.I want to change. I have a wife and a kid. I started going to church to become a man again, to help me get out of the gang life and move on. I want to move on and be a man. Hopefully I can be out in 13 years to be with my wife and child.

Journal #30
I don’t mean to be disrespectful in class and act out. I had some terrible things happen in my family. The grandparents who raised me died within six months of each other. I was eleven years old when they died. My behavior went out of control. I started doing drugs and living on the streets. After four years of that, I had to do something different.I still have a lot of anger and hate built up inside. When I explode, it’s not because of the teachers or the students. It’s just that all my anger and hate comes out at once and it overpowers me. I can’t stop myself. If I don’t get control of my temper, I’m gonna end up in prison or dead.

Journal #31
Take one look at me and tell me what you seeA failure, a thug,It’s what most think when we first meet.Until we speak and you get to know meI’m just a young boy with intelligence seeking a hero.Someone to look up to in this weird world.Someone different than the ones giving me weed, pills of ecstasySittin next to me passing the HennessyMany tell me I have a good head on my shouldersSquares to gangsters say the sameBut for some reason negativity rules my brain.I’m not sayin’ these are the people to becomeI’m just pondering why my mind is so deranged.

07-08 Writing Exchange II

Journal #11
“Dreams and dedications are a powerful combination.”
Dreams and dedications. Dreaming is pretty much all I can do anymore. My mom has been living in a little *** trailer for the last three years and all of her boyfriends end up moving in. The all seem to be the same. At the beginning they tell you your gonna get all these nice things and that we are gonna move soon. I guess somewhere along the line they change their mind.There are two things I see almost every night: my step dad drinking and my step dad yelling at my mom. I don’t know why mom lets him stay. She says she loves him, but I don’t see much to love. I’ve asked her before to tell me the real reason he stays. She told me she is afraid of being alone. I don’t like to see my mom cry, but there’s usually nothing I can do about it.Mom told me things are looking up because she got a letter from section 8, but I don’t believe her.

Journal #12
Why does all this have to happen to me? Every day, every night, something new happens and it seems that the problems are getting worse and worse. Just this past weekend, I had too many problems. It gave me a headache. I lost another close friend. He left to Sacramento and I won’t be able to see him again. Every time I’m around them I feel so protected to the point nobody can touch me. I don’t know why. Do I feel protected because of the guns? Or because they can fight?I wish my sister would have felt protected like I was when one of my relatives touched her in a way they shouldn’t have. Now I have to see my mom cry every night and blame herself for what my uncle did. I get so upset when I see or hear my mom suffer because I feel like I can’t help her and on Saturday night when another of my siblings left to a party with her friend, she didn’t come home until 12AM. Again, I had to hear my mom cry. She had thoughts of my sister getting raped or kidnapped or even that she was dead.My sister didn’t call my mom to check in and when she came home the first thing she did was yell at my mom. That is when it made me realize what I use to do to my mom when I went out to parties. I too contributed to her pain. The thing I’m afraid of is seeing my sister fall in the same footsteps as me. I don’t want to see her on the edge of being on probation, a gang member, and a bad kid, but she doesn’t see or notice that I’m trying to change to the young lady my mom would have wished me to be.I want everyone to notice the real me: the loving, caring, sweet girl I am. But all they see is the gang affiliated person. Man I remember when I was proud of people calling me a gang member but now I am only ashamed. I’m tired of it. It was part of my life I want to put in the past, but I can’t do it by myself. I hope my family and friends notice that.

Journal #13
In the past of it all there was a fog of no regret.The haze of a light starving the dark night breeze.The sound of someone trying to find a warm place to sleep.The far away cry of a little girls scream after getting hit by her abusive father.The echo of a firetruck rushing to a call.Because of four stupid crack kids trying to cook dopeBut at the end of it allThe past of it is a haze.A fog.In the night, the dense sound of the late, late breezy dark.

Journal # 14
Day 1 San Francisco:Today was our first day in San Francisco. I thought that it was pretty cool. I’m happy that I got this opportunity to go. It is a great experience and there is good food. I love it. I still miss my family and my girlfriend. I’m gonna make this the best field trip ever.Day 2 San Francisco:Today was one of the funnest days of my life. I figured out that you don’t need drugs and alcohol to have fun. All you need is friends and somewhere to go. Things are so different everywhere you go: the people, the houses, and the ocean.Day 3 San Francisco:Today is the last day of our trip. Alcatraz was ‘hella’ fun and my peers were really funny and cool. I can’t wait for the next trip. We’re on our way home and I can’t wait to get there to see my girl and to go to sleep.

Journal #15
“Emancipate yourself from mental slavery; none but ourselves can free our minds.”
My girlfriend is 2 months pregnant. I was looking for a job but when I found out she was pregnant, reality kicked in and now I need a job to support my family. There is a lot going through my head right now, but being scared is not one of them. Actually, I’m kind of excited and so is she. Everyone keeps telling me that my life is over, but I don’t happen to think this is so. Both of our parents love babies and they are OK with the fact that they are going to be grandmas.

Journal #16
My life is going OK right now. My mom and I have our own place now. We haven’t had our own place in like two years. We have just been living with friends. We rented a room from one of them, so we have had our own place for about two months. This is a really big thing for us. I am so glad. My mom is doing great. She’s still clean. I’m kind of sad that I won’t be getting anything for Christmas because we don’t have the money right now. My mom is paying old debts and things. Other than that, life is OK right now.

Journal #17
Tuesday, December 4th. After a lot of fundraising and busting my *** to do all my work, and getting my act together, we finally left for our school trip to San Francisco. I’ve been really excited about this trip ever since I heard about it. I have never been to the city or to the ocean. It feels really weird; I used to be a real trouble maker. I used to be a real sicko kid that was violent and I even tried killing a few people. Now I’m a straight “A” student. I’m going on trips with my school and I even got an award for perfect attendance and most improved behavior. It just goes to show you that it is a better way of life. Not long ago, if somebody tried to tell me that, I would have simply said, **** you, but now I realize it is the truth………
It has been almost a week since we got back from our adventure trip to San Francisco. I really enjoyed it. I heard for the next trip we’re going to Monterey. I’ve never been there but some of my friends have and they say it’s really cool. So I am really excited about this next trip. I’m going to do everything in my power to go. When I thought about being with teachers for three days straight, I said, “This is going to be a ******* disaster,” but I was wrong. I got to know some of my peers better and build a better relationship with my teachers. It turns out they’re pretty cool.

Journal #18Some say death is painfulI say death is blissThe sad and the weakAwait the dark angels kiss100% of people dieThe strong praise GodAnd fight the devil’s facade.Shot’s fired in a room of darknessHit benevolent people that glow like a lighter that’s sparked too quickAncestors would take the crack of a whipNow on the corners it’s the crack they hitI weep for fallen friendsMy smiles and kind gestures are all pretendI sit up late with one question for the windWhen will this chaos finally end?

Journal #19
“An eye for an eye will leave everyone blind.”
I like this quote because it’s true. Even now I admit it’s true. I don’t abide by it. Don’t ask me why, I just don’t think before I act and because I can’t control my anger. Once someone does something to me and I get mad, the first thing I think of is how I’m gonna get them back. I hate it when that is the first and only thing I think about when I am angry.If I didn’t get mad like I do or if I was able to think before I act, I would be at a regular school, not on probation, not on EMP, and most of all I would have my own life and freedom. I’m sick of having to share my life with a bracelet, a probation officer, the hall staff, this school, and random searches. I just wish I didn’t have to deal with it. I’m sick of it. I tried anger management and counseling, but it doesn’t seem to work cause my anger gets me into most of my trouble. I just explode. You can ask all the teachers at North County. When I get mad, I explode and I hate it cause I usually take it out on people that didn’t do anything to me.I always think when I go to the hall that it is my last time in there, but to tell you the truth, it’s a lie. I wish it was the truth, but it’s not. People always tell me it’s not hard to stop, but it is. TROUBLE to me is like a cigarette to others or alcohol. It is an addicting drug. Then again, weed was a drug I was able to quit. It was hard, but I did it so I can’t say I can’t quit, but to tell you the truth, I’m not ready to. When it comes down to it, I say I’ll quit, but I have to realize I most likely will not.

Journal #20
My life has been hard at times. Actually life has been really hard and great at other times. There were times I didn’t know how I was gonna get throught it, but by the grace of God and with my families support, I did. I thank god I did. I once had everything a kid could want: dirt bikes, video games, and a mom. At one point in time drug addiction took all that from me. My mom died last year and still every time I think about her or her smile she is still part of my life. I could be completely pissed off and after a few seconds of talking to her, I felt happy again. She died chasing our dog across the street when some guy on a suspended license hit her. The cops didn’t even give him a ticket.

Journal #21
After I had read this quote from Mark Twain, I thought that he really had no idea what he was saying. I don’t know much about this man nor do I know what has happened to him in his life, but I do know from my life that great people still belittle you without even knowing it. He say’s to stay away from people that do this, but you can’t always keep away from them because they’re all around you: in your school, on the street, or in a store, even on TV. So I would like to have had a word with Mr. Twain to point out how this whole world will help belittle you and not even know. I also wonder if he grew up on the same planet as I did because if he did, I’m positive he would have something different written for this quote.

07-08 Writing Exchange I (YEAR TWO)

Journal #1
Life is a strange thing. There’s always going be good and bad times, but they will even out don’t get me wrong. I have had a pretty ****** up life. I never met my biological father. My mom was almost never there when I needed her, but at least the person I call “dad” was there to raise me since I was six months old. He took care of me. My mom was an on and off drug user, so when my dad was at work, we were alone for a long time. Then my dad realized that my mom was barely taking care of us so my grandparents watched us after school.I remember one night when I was about seven. I woke up at like 2 AM because of a bad dream. I wanted my mom, but she wasn’t there. I didn’t want to wake up my daddy, so I went to wake up my sister. I walked to her room and saw the basement door was open. I was very scared so I woke up my sister and my dad. My dad went down there to see if my mom was there, but she wasn’t. I recall thinking my mother was dead in the basement because that door had never been open before. Anyhow, life really hasn’t gotten that much better except that my mom doesn’t use anymore. I don’t live with her, but my life still sucks.

Journal #2
I feel the pain upon my eyesJust the September’s midnight skiesI hold on as tight as I canUntil the day I can’t hold on any moreIt hurts deep insideI open my heart extremely wideTill I find a girl that stand’s by my side.Pain is realJust like the bullet you can not feelAm I dreamingBecause your jumping off a building but you go through the ceilingSix feet underHere comes the rain, here comes the thunderI cannot help but just to wonderIt hurts deep inside and I just don’t know whyJust like October’s midnight skies.

Journal #3
Drug addiction has been in my family for a long time. It has taken many of my family members. My father attempted suicide on several occasions during his addiction. My grandfather hung himself two blocks from where I live now and it hurts every time I pass that house. Now it is my turn. Now I’m the addict, but there is something different about me. I will not let myself be like that. I refuse.

Journal #4
The one thing I regret most right now in life is not spending as much time with my dad. I didn’t hang out with him that much. I was never home. I wish I could go back in time and spend more time with him instead of my friends. I miss him so much. He was the best dad ever. He had always been there for me. He was a constant support. Most of all he loved me no matter what I did. He was the same to my brothers and my mom. It has been a year since he died and it is still hard to believe he is never coming back. I really regret not spending very much time with him. I love you daddy.

Journal #5
If I could take one thing back, it would be my brother leaving my life. I guess you could say I was a good boy until he left. I got something that would make him so happy. I know it would. He left us a mess. I don’t really blame him, but after he left, my life changed. I didn’t give a **** anymore. I started doing stupid ****, drugs, and not coming home. Then I got involved in gangs. I can’t say I regret it, but it’s not what I like either. I’d get into fights all the time and when they said we need you , I had to be there. I regret the one thing I did. It started out fun. The next thing I knew, I was drunk, not giving a **** with a gun, and I used it. From then on it all changed. I hurt people but at the same time who cared? I didn’t. I like being in a gang. It’s fun and at the same time it is not. Whenever I wanted to kick it with the homies, I knew there would always be someone there to do it with.Now things have changed again. Something is happening in my life where I have to think about others before myself. I don’t want the person I’m looking out for in gangs because it wouldn’t be good.I don’t blame my brother for my decisions, but if he didn’t leave, I don’t think I would be where I am now: on probation having to be home at a certain time and not being able to hang out with my friends because of who they are. When he left me I changed. My life, my family and now there is this one special person. I feel because of my brother my life could end up shorter than planned or in prison not being able to take care of this person or play with them. My choosing of gangs is because of my brother leaving my life. I regret getting in gangs, but I can’t stop. They say you can, but it’s ******* hard. I am what I am to the fullest, but now I know I have to calm down because of what responsibility I have. At the same time I wonder where it will it get me, but I understand it will get me friends. No, **** friends, family for life, but is it the family I want? It’s not what I want for my own, but I can’t change it. I regret gangs. It’s nothing but prison.

Journal #6
Sometimes I wish I could take back ever being born. You may ask why. Well, for the first 12 years of my life I had an abusive dad and crack head mom. I used to wonder why they had me. If they did not want me, then why did they have me? I thank God that I found my new foster family. They are some of the coolest people in the world. So now I do not ask myself those questions quite as often.

Journal #7
If I could take back one thing, it would be being involved in the gang life. I don’t even know how I got involved myself, but since I grew up in a household full of gangbangers, it influenced me. I mean it was hard to walk down the street for me before I joined the gang lifestyle. Just by knowing my father, people would ask me if I was in; just because of who I was related to. I used to say “no,” but I still got beat up because of my relations. So ever since I joined a gang, I feel protected and now if they want to jump me for something, it is for what they used to believe anyway.I lost my brother and he is far away from home. It makes me consider dropping out and starting a new life. I don’t want to get sent away from my mom and break her heart for being the next criminal in the family, but **** it, I am already in the game and it seems the only way out is death.

Journal #8I regret the fact that I can’t stop ******* up. I regret the fact of what I have put my mom through. I mean for the past two years I have been in and out of Juvenile Hall six or seven times and that adds up to be a lot of stress and ******* money my mom has to pay. If I keep going at the rate I have been, I’m going to end up in prison and end up not being there for my own kids or able to provide for my family like my **** up of a father. So I sit here and ask myself, Why?

Journal #9I wish that my life was normal. I wish that the person I considered my real dad was still alive and here to tell me everything is going to be alright. I’d believe him. I wish that life was simple and not so hard. I wish that nothing ever changed. I wish that I could turn back time because if I could I would go back and change everything that ever went wrong in my life. I wish I had someone to listen to my pain and sorrow. I wish I had somebody to tell me that everything is OK. I had someone after my dad’s death, but they left me too, just like everybody that means something to me seems to do. Right when things start to get good, they up and leave. Right now, I wish I wasn’t ever born.

Journal #10I was sitting outside on the steps looking at the stars. I could hear the dog barking. I remember hearing gunshots and people screaming. All of a sudden, it got quiet and then my phone rang. My mom picked it up. I could see her through the window. Then I saw in her eyes. They started to water. She dropped to her knees and started to say, “Why, Why?” I ran in the house to see what was wrong. I dropped to my knees and held my mom in my arms and asked what was wrong. She said, “He’s gone.” “Who,” I asked. She said grandpa is dead. Tears started to fill my eyes as well. I ran outside and fell to the ground saying, “Why God? Why us?” If I could take back one moment, it would be my grandpa’s death.

Writinge Exchange X 06-07

Journal # 87
I fear that I will turn into a piece of **** like my father: always in and out of prison. He has never been there for me or my mother because he was always too ****** up. I thought I would never mess up like him but over the last year I have been put in the “Hall” four times and it seems to me like I am hopeless. I remember when I was about 2 years old I witnessed my dad stab my mom in the leg because he was drunk. I remember when he came home drunk and threw me across the room just because I was crying when he and my mom were fighting.When they got a divorce he went and married another woman and they had a baby girl together. Once again, he came home drunk and ended up breaking four of her ribs and one of her legs. He got arrested for that and then when he got out I saw him for the first time in like eight years. He tried acting like nothing ever happened but I told him to go **** himself and to leave me alone. The last time I heard about him he was locked up for coming home drunk and beating his new wife with a bat.
Journal #88
It has been two weeks since my Grandma died and I still can’t stop crying. My homies tell me I am a ***** for crying. Now I know what kind of homeboys I have. **** that. I cry when I need to or want to.You may think you have good homeboys but you don’t. They’re your homeboys when your doing good, but when you get sick or locked up, they are not there. Now that I am 16 years old, I realize that. I’m trying to stay away from my “homies,” as much as I can. I got a job and I am hanging at my brothers to just stay away from the streets.People say that when you die you can’t take everything, but it’s not true. People take love, memories, and sentimental things with them. I know my Grandma took all of those things and I kept them too. I will always remember the times I had with her. RIP
ournal #89
Now that I am off EMP, it is hard for me to stay clean. I seem to have jumped back to my old ways. Lately, I have been getting high and it is bad. I’m about to get off probation. I must just work so that my time is spent productively. I feel myself slipping but I won’t let myself fall. If that happened I would be back at square one and that is somewhere I don’t want to be. This scares me.
Journal #90
Do you feel big and bad? Do you feel strong and mighty? Does it make you macho? Is that what goes through your blown out mind? Are you trashed and **** faced when it goes down? Do you feel like a man when you handle her around? Does it give you pleasure or confidence? Is it a funny situation for your drunk ***? Do her victimized tears satisfy your thirst for power? Do her screams make you happy inside? Hitting and screaming, fighting and running, pleasure and pain, tears of satisfaction with that grin on your face. Taking advantage of life so you have the pleasure of fighting another day.
Journal #91
The last couple of weekends I have been messed up with some drugs, alcohol, and boys. I didn’t know what I was doing. I know it wasn’t that serious because if it was I think I would remember. I’m trying to put bits and pieces together from what people are telling me and what I kind of recall.The guy thinks I am getting him for rape because the school found out and he thinks I said something, but I liked him. Why would I get him in trouble? Girls want to fight me and guys don’t want anything to do with me, but everything happens for a reason. What God decides to do is for a good reason.
Journal #92
I want my old life back. I feel so lost inside because I need my family back. I wish everything was like how it used to be. I am only 16 and it feels like I am so much older because I always have to do it on my own. I dream every night that when I wake up it won’t be like yesterday. I want to get revenge. I just need to stay calm but I wish this never happened. I am strong. Every night, I dream tomorrow will be better. I love myself, so I need to control my temper.
Journal #93
I want my hair backI want to be the only one on this Godforsaken planetI want food
I need money for foodI need a car to get around inI need a life!
I wish I had everything I wrote downI wish I could start life overI wish I could go big places
I am a potheadI am me
I dream of genie, ha haI dream of another lifeI dream of money
I love youI love meI love everyone.
Journal #94
I want to get away from the environment I am inI want to get off probation and live my life the way I want.I want to get away from myself, but obviously I can’tI need to get away from my idiot parentsI need for all the drama in my life to stop before I go crazyI need sanityI fear nothingI hope I can get out of this country and start my life overI hope I don’t lose control before I can get awayI hope my friends will understand why I have to leave
Journal #95
Another shoutAnd I am still
The loud guffawsAre peeling outAgainst my will
The laughter mocksMy stoic lawsA wisp of doubtI swiftly kill
A booming voiceConfusion stalksAnd sinks its clawsRight through my stoutUnbending will
I’ve made my choiceAnd though the soundAnd fury drownCool reasons voiceI hear the shoutAnd I am still
Journal #96
Our trip to Sacramento was a very cool experience for me. It had me thinking about how I am lucky to be in this school and also how I don’t regret my mistakes. To learn from mistakes, you have to make them first. This trip has helped me to realize that I have a second chance to restart my life and not to make the same mistakes that will put me in bad situations.When we went out to dinner with Ms. G (Erin Gruwell), it was very cool. I mean, we both learned new things. She learned more about juveniles in a court school and I learned that the harder teachers push you to do good, the more they care about you to have a good education.I am so glad I met Ms. G. She is a very energetic person and she seems like someone that won’t give up on anyone, no matter how stubborn they are. This trip gave me more strength to try to change my ways. Prior to this overnight trip to Sacramento, I thought I would never change and I might have to rethink this now.So, Scott and Ms. Abel, thanks for doing this for us. The only thing that would have been better is if the whole school could have seen what us 6 students got to see, feel, and experience. Once again, thank you!
Journal # 97
Thursday, May 17th, we left school at 12:30 and headed to Sacramento. When we got to Sac, we checked into the hostel and waited there until about 4:30 and then walked to the VIP pre party, where we met Erin Gruwell, the great co-author of the Freedom Writer’s and a great teacher she is.I really enjoyed all of what we did. I especially enjoyed the show at the theater when there were a panel of students speaking with Erin. I could relate to Eduardo, the Mexican kid. I feel that I can relate to him because my Mom and three of my brothers have been in and out of jail and prison and my mom is a recovering addict. Two of my brothers are users and I worry about them every day. I worry about a bad deal going down and that they may get hurt or that if they were fiending they may do something stupid and get locked up again.I try to tell them that it hurts me to know they are doing that ****. They need to realize that getting high is not getting them anywhere in life. I can’t believe the stress and the lives ruined from a drug. I hate crystal meth. I call it the Meth Monster and that is what it is, a monster destroying lives.
Journal # 98
One week before our field trip to Sacramento, we had a car wash to raise money. We washed a lot of cars and sold ice cream sandwiches. We made $228 and our principal matched all the money we made so that gave us $456 for our trip. Then, on Thursday, May 17th, we went to Sacramento. The ride there was pretty quiet and wasn’t that fun, but when we got there, it was so fun.We checked into the hostel at like 2:15 or 2:30. We got to our room and freshened up. Next we headed to the VIP banquet for the Center for Youth Citizenship conference, and that is where we met Erin Gruwell and her assistant, Naja. We talked and they repeatedly told me they liked my smile. We then went to the Crest Theater and heard Erin speak. There were so many people there and some were rather annoying sitting around us.After the speech, we waited for Erin to go out to dinner. While we were waiting, my peer and I got interviewed by Channel 10 news. We also met Larry and Marc, who are making a documentary about the Freedom Writers. We ate at PF Changs and it was so much fun. I sat at the end of the table with all of the adults: right next to Erin and Marc. We all had a really good conversation. I got to know them better because they were the only ones near me to talk to. We ate dinner and went back to the hostel.Erin, Naja, Marc, and Larry, came to the hostel with us and said their goodbyes. The other students and I then stayed in the living room of the Sacramento Hostel and hung out until one in the morning when we had to go back to our rooms. Another peer and I stayed up in our rooms until like three in the morning and then we finally went to sleep and got up at like seven in the morning to take a shower. We got on the computer to watch the News 10 clip and then we went out to breakfast at this place called Jim Denny’s. Their food was so good and the pancakes were bigger than the plate and about two inches thick! One of my peers almost finished his.We took lots of pictures and we really got to know each other better than we did before the trip. After we ate, we went to the capital building and then were on our way back to school. Again, it was a very quiet drive.

Journal #100
Last night and today have been one of the greatest days that I have had in a long time. I was with my peers, teacher, and principal. We went to meet the teacher, Ms. Gruwell. She was one of the nicest ladies you could ever meet. She was so full of energy and life. We arrived in Sacramento at like 2:30 and arrived at this big house that looked like the Bidwell Mansion: the Sacramento Hostel. It almost seemed creepy at first.We went to this VIP party for the Center for Youth Citizenship conference. It was quite fancy and this is where we met the radiant Erin Gruwell for the first time. She was not shy at all. She just walked straight up to each of us and hugged us like she had known us our whole lives or as if we were family.Later that night, we went out to dinner with Erin. It was wonderful. We ate so much. It was great even though it was freezing cold. Just as the night started to end, we all said our goodbyes at around 12 AM.I have to admit, it was kind of weird staying there with our principal, Karen, and teacher, Scott, but I would have to say that this was one of the best trips I have ever been on.

R.I.P
IT MIGHT HURT TO THINK ABOUT IT
NO ONE WILL REPLACELOVE IN OUR HEATS FOR U
OVER AND OVER AGAIN WE PRAY
VERY SOON ILL BE WITH U
IN TIME NOW I’LL STILL CARRY U N MY HEART UNTIL I’MG ONE AND WITH U
ME, I THINK OF U EVERY DAY MORE THAN ANYONE THINKS
I REMEMBER WHEN WE KICKED IT ALL THE TIME
YEAH IT HURTS TO C U LEAVE BUT SOON I’LL BE UP THERE DON’T WORRY

Writing Exchange IX 06-07

Journal #78I hear verbal abuse all the time at my old apartment. There are ex-roommates and kids yelling and screaming at their mother. They are only 13 and 17. They tell her that she’s a piece of **** and that she ruins their life. They put her down all the time because she won’t give them money and because they don’t get clothes or shoes as much as they should. Sometimes I don’t blame them because it is true at times, but telling their mother that they hate her because they’re mad isn’t right.They don’t realize that she could be gone any minute and day. I try to talk to them about how they would feel if they told their mom, “I hate you,” and then she left because they were fighting and she didn’t come home. If they heard on the news about a car accident and the driver died and it was their mom, they would feel terrible. I try to get them to understand life is too short, but they don’t get it. They still yell and say very messed up things to their mom all the time when they fight. Telling your own mother you hate her and she made your life suck and she ruined it, is emotional abuse or verbal abuse.

Journal #79
ABUSE: I really don’t want to write about this topic and I don’t think that anyone else I know would like me to write about it either because this isn’t a very good topic for me. If you knew my past and the things that happened to me: these were things that shouldn’t happen to anyone. No one else should have these things happen, but the reality is it happens every day and that is a horrible reality. I think that people that sexually abuse anyone should die and rot in prison while getting the things done to them that they did to innocent people.

Journal #80
I have been thinking a lot about how my life was and how it would have been if my mom and dad were still married. I always think that if they were still together then I probably wouldn’t be the same person that I am today. I would probably be a preppy and that is not what I am out to be but that was a childhood dream: to live a perfect life in a nice neighborhood and have a lot of nice things. I guess I wanted to have the fairy tale life but then again that is everybody’s childhood dream.I am kind of grateful for the way my life has been in the past 15 years because if my life wouldn’t of been so hard then I wouldn’t know what I know now and then I wouldn’t of been able to learn from my mom and dad’s mistakes. So now I know what I need to do to be a good person and parent when the time is right and the last thing that I will ever do is DRUGS. I had to learn the hard way and I don’t want to make my family go through that especially when I have kids because I know how it feels to have a parent or both parents gone most of your life.It is important to think how would that make you feel and what would that do to your life. I ask myself, “What do I need to do to be the person that I want to be, the person who is gonna always be there, the person that doesn’t do DRUGS and ruin my own life as well as my children’s lives when I have kids?” That is all that I have on my mind and I hope that my choices are much better than my parents!

Journal #81
I think sometimes it is ok to call cops if you know for sure that what someone is doing is abusive and that they were wrong. Often what most middle or upper class people would call abuse, others don’t and what middle and upper class people call help others don’t.

Journal #82
ABUSE: I’ve seen from pimps beating prostitutes to powder heads getting it on. I now have a me against the world mentality. I’ve witnessed men taking their anger out on their lady. Personally, I ain’t with that ****. I’m not trying to be in jail. Sure there are some girls who have their potty mouth but that doesn’t change things. My mother always taught me growing up, if you were to hit a ***** you must be one; I respect that. My mother has always been a single mother and I couldn’t ever see someone putting thier hands on her so how could I? It just wouldn’t be right.

Journal #83
About five mouths ago my house got raided and my Dad and Mom got arrested. They even took my nephew to social services. My mom got three months and my Dad got five. He then got deported to Mexico without our family even knowing. It was hard for us because we were worried about his health.A couple weeks passed by and he came back and he was here for couple of months and then the ******* cops found him and locked him up again. They are going to send him back to Mexico and my familia told me that I have to go to Mexico and take care of my dad. Now I hate the cops more than ever because my nephew was there when this went down and I really did not want him to see what was happening. My dad and I got arrested and my nephew was so scared of what was going on.

Journal #84
“LABELS”I have been labeled my whole life. I have been labeled a **** up and a juvenile delinquent. Labels become pretty much anything that would make any one person feel as if there is nothing they can do right because no matter what you do it always seems to be the wrong thing. After a while you hear these things, these labels that just because you made one mistake you believe the labels and you start living up to them. SO my advice to you, the reader, “Don’t become what people label. Prove them wrong.”

Journal # 85
“Spring Memory”Wrinkle in the clear cloud.Praying for the loved ones that are gone.Remembering the great memories that happened.In the hot day I relax as they bloom.Now I’m not free as much I used to be.Goin to bed as I think about the great times when we hung out.

Journal #86
What brought me to school here is that I got expelled from my middle school for fighting. I am 14 and I am Mexican. My life was a living hell until I moved in with a great family. I used to live on the streets. I guess my mom was a crackhead. She always blamed everything on me even thought I didn’t do anything wrong. She made me believe I was a bad person. She kicked me out when I was 13. I slept under bridges with no blankets or anything. Yeah, I was hungry, but I was too scared to do anything about it.I’ve been abused by my Dad. Being hit with a closed fist, not knowing what to do or what I did wrong. I did believe I was a bad person, so that is when I got into trouble with the police, etc. I smoke marijuana because it seems to set me free from the horrible life I had. The first day I smoked I felt I was reborn. Yes, I am scared not knowing what is going to happen next. This is my life.

Journal #87
I’m livin with these cooked waysIma die in a misfortunate wayHope for better but expect shady daysOne on One watch them run awayThey come back in a crowd now listen to my gun playWatch these politicians and laws with their devilish waysThey give a fuck what we sayIt’s a working scheme cause ourselves is who we slayThis life is like a mazeUsed to look for an out, ey!But there is non till my body is six feet deep where it laysFuck it, live the rest of my days in a dazeBecause now I am disfunctional if my mind isn’t in a hazeSo where you seem, damn right I’m blazedNegativity is not what I wanted to portrayBut I had no choice cause I’m forced to live with these crooked ways.

Journal #88
As I was on my way to school today I was thinking, if I keep up the good work I will be out of here soon. I am trying my hardest here everyday but I’m getting burnt out prettyquick. Sometimes I feel like jumping off a cliff. Sometimes there is not **** to do but sitat home all day long. I decided to go to the SK8 park to ride, catch some air, and grind some coping.

Writing Exchange VIII 06-07

Writing Exchange VIIIMarch 16, 2007
Journal #64
Between school and work my life’s crazy. I wake up early every morning to ride the bus across town to go to school. It’s a big hassle to end up arguing and pissed off at the immaturity of the people around me.Then there’s work. It sucks. My managers not one of those people you really want to be around. On top of that people are rude and blame me for their problems, like I’m the reason their orders are ****** up.All that people seem to worry about is their clothes and shoes, asking me, “Why don’t you get new shoes?” blah blah blah. Why, because I don’t just get stuff handed to me on a silver platter. Everything I own, I’ve bought. I pay for everything myself. My mom doesn’t buy me stuff. Making $7.50 an hour isn’t cutting it. I’d make more money illegally!
Journal #65
My inspiration in life would have to be my friends and family even though I believe I won’t achieve. They keep telling me I will and that I am better off than what I think I am. Regardless, I keep thinking otherwise. If I didn’t have people that cared, I think I’d be down hill right now, not knowing what to do with my life. I’d probably still be doing drugs.My ex-boyfriend is also my inspiration. He made me see how life really is and how guys are liars and deceivers. I still care for him, but hate him at the same time. Sometimes I think that if I never met him my life would be better.
Journal#66
Dear Friend
I never thought that you would beThe one I hate so viciouslyBut now I know we couldn’t beTogether anyway
It’s not that you or I have changedJust our eyes were rearrangedAnd though our hearts will lie estrangedWe’ll never walk away
I see you, no you can not hideI also see a great divideFrom how you first addressed my eyesI saw you first today
Now the great charade is doneNow a gruesome battle wonBut is it victory when the sunSets low on hearts todayYou know we’ll never walk away
Journal #67
As I was on my way to school today I was thinking, if I keep up the good work I will be out of here soon. I am trying my hardest here everyday but I’m getting burnt out prettyquick. Sometimes I feel like jumping off a cliff. Sometimes there is not **** to do but sitat home all day long. I decided to go to the SK8 park to ride, catch some air, and grind some coping.
Journal #68
An event in my life that changed me is my dad passing away. It not only changed me and my life, it changed my whole family’s lives. He was there for all of us and now he’s just gone. I realize that my brothers, mom, and I could be here one day and gone the next. That scares me. I didn’t really realize this until my dad passed away. I want to graduate and go to college and make my father proud.
Journal #69
Damn. Something that changed me was when my father moved out and that’s when everything went to ****. Everything wasn’t the same without him. We started getting in trouble and changing who we were supposed to be. We went from school staff to police officers. This sucked at the time, knowing I would be in trouble when I should know what’s right from wrong. I didn’t understand why I was turning out like that.My dad has been coming over with us every time he gets a minute to spend, so it’s all good anyway. It’s all good with everybody in my family even though we wish that soon he will come back to live with us. That is when everything will change and be right, but he’s looking for answers that none of us have the answers to. Someday he’ll understand and that will set him right: to know that we all care about him and there is nothing we’re hiding from him. There is no way I could hide **** from him. He’s my dad!
Journal #70
A lot of things in my life changed me. Some of them were bad and some of them were worse and all of these events changed who I am and who I will become. They changed who I can trust and who I can’t. I think everything that happens to you in life is something you can learn from, even if it is bad. Sometimes you’re too young to even realize what is happening to you and it isn’t your fault.
Journal #71
I feel so sick inside. I’m tired and I don’t feel good but yet I’m still here. I don’t know why, but something draws me back day after day. Maybe I am meant to have an education. I don’t know why. Today will be one of the days where I’m not very social or focused. My peers get on my nerves so bad. Have you ever had the feeling that you’re not meant to be where you are? I feel like that every day: out of place. Life is funny how it works sometimes.
Journal #72
Just a few days ago my dad died in a car accident. It was so ******* hard and I couldn’t take it. I have had the worst time of my life. All I could do is think about him and all of my memories came back. This made me feel even worse and made me feel like I have lost a piece of me and I can’t seem to fill that emptiness in my heart. The last thing I need is people talking badly about my dad; I was on the internet and there were comments on the web page that said he deserved to die. **** all those people. They don’t even know **** about him so they need to mind their own business.On Friday, I went to his viewing and it was really, really hard. I couldn’t stand it in the funeral home and then my friend was walking up to his body with me and all I saw were his eyes. Then I couldn’t go any further. I just dropped to my knees.I got really angry because there was a person there that didn’t even know my dad and this person went up to the mic and started talking about how they loved my dad and ****. I didn’t appreciate her being there and making a big scene.On Saturday was the funeral and his son was there. He is only four years old and doesn’t understand that his dad is dead. When it finally seemed like he understood, we went to his aunts and they hadn’t played the messages in a while. They played it and there was a message from my dad to his son and then he said, “See, I told you my daddy ain’t dead. I want to talk to him now.” He didn’t believe that in the coffin was his daddy until the funeral. He put a flower on the coffin and started crying and said, “I love you daddy.” When they were lowering him into the ground I couldn’t stop crying and then I heard his son screaming and my heart dropped to the ground.I feel that I don’t have the strength to pick it up and move on yet. I think about my dad every day and I cry because of all the memories I have of him and my brother and I. I love my dad so much more than life and I know that he knows that because I told him many, many times. I love you dad.
Journal #73
Friday night I got really drunk because there was a lot of **** going on in my life. I was calling my sister for about an hour and then she showed up out of nowhere at my house. I haven’t seen her in about two months. It made my whole night and I wasn’t mad anymore. I was still “hella faded and stupid high,” but I still remember.
Journal #74
If you knew me you would know that I sit in my room with the music blaring, working on my stereo. After I do that and I get my music where I like it, I lie back and think about the pain and suffering to myself and others because of what happens in this crappy town. When I think about this, I can’t help myself or my friends because I’m in the same loophole and I can’t get out. I try, but nothing works and I’m just caught up with the **** that happens. That is why if you really knew me you would know this is about me.
Journal #75
I don’t really like the topic, so I’m just going to write. I have been doing a lot better lately…..I’ve been going to school and getting my **** done. Staying out of trouble is hard. I’m doing alright in that department, but still taking trips to the principal’s office every once in while. I’m doing better now though. I still struggle somewhat, but I’m on a slow and steady track to success and that’s all I’m worried about.Soon enough, I’ll be off probation, working and probably, hopefully, going to Butte College. I will just keep trying my hardest to achieve my goals and hopefully it all turns out in the end…I will not give up!
Journal #76
I’ve claimed territory. I try to change my ways, but it’s hard. It’s all about Mexicans fighting over a color. I know it is dumb: Mexicans killing each other. I don’t care about red or blue. I don’t care about gangs. I try to be friends with the opposite gang but how do you do that with tattoos. My brother died from gangs. He got shot four times. I don’t know if it was his time to go.
Journal #77
I studied hard for my first communion. I had to learn four prayers in a week. It was hard. I thought I was not going to be able to do it, but I jut kept on studying and it came the day I had to do it and I passed. We killed a pig and had lots of food. We made tamales and some Mexican food I don’t know how to pronounce in English, but it was lots of fun.Now it is a sad day. It was hard to tell my aunts and uncles that I was leaving and it hurts. In the morning I went to the bank to get some money that my cousin sent me. I took my cousin and my brother to eat some hamburgers that afternoon. I already had plans of taking them somewhere because I wanted my cousins to remember me and when I came to Mexico. I’ve had a lot of fun in Mexico. It’s fantastic over here.

Writing Exchange VII 06-07

WRITING EXCHANGE VIIFEBRUARY 20, 2007
Journal #54
If you really knew me, you would know that I have lived a hard life and a terrible childhood.If you really knew me you would know that my Mom and Dad mean the world to me and I would do anything for them.If you really knew me you would know that my Mom was barely ever there and that pushed my Dad away. My Mom and Dad divorced when I was 9.If you really knew me you would know that my parents were together for 9 years and the first 6 were great and the rest were fake.If you really knew me you would know that I never knew my biological Dad, but the one who I call “Dad” has been there since I was born and that he is my hero. He is the only person I can call “Dad.”If you really knew me you would know that I lived a life without my Mom for 2 years and she wasn’t out doing drugs. She was in prison and that was the worst feeling ever to be without a parent for two years.If you really knew me you would know that I don’t take any ****.
Last night was one of the worst nights I have had in a long time. My Mom and I got into a fight and she said that she would never kick me out and that is exactly what she did. She left me out in the cold and now I stay with my grandparents, but I don’t want to live with them. I want to be with my Mom. I was without her for two years and I don’t want to lose her again. This now is all because of drug use.
Journal #55
If you really knew meyou wouldn’t call me a whore.If you really knew me you would knownot to get involved.If our really knew me you would know that birth markon my chest is really a scar.If you really knew me you wouldn’t bring up the past.If you really knew me you would let go of your graspIf you really knew me there would be no need to ask
Journal #56
If you really knew me, you would know that I was in foster care at seven years old and I never want to go back. It was the worst place in the world: eight long *** months without my mother. I went to three different placements. The first one was horrible. There were three kids there. The biological daughter was very mean to me and my sibling. I never got to see my mom, so I ran away. They got me again and switched us to another foster parent. She made us clean everything. Next we went to another home for six months. It was really bad there. The oldest son was 16 years old. He was smoking pot in the house right next to our room. The foster mother made my brother sleep on the bathroom floor. After a long time we were able to go home with our mom. I will never go back to a placement again.
Journal #57
If you really knew me you would know that I am not very bright. You would know I have messed up a lot in my life making bad choices and a few good ones. If you really knew me you would know I’m very bad tempered when it comes down to it. If you really knew me you would know I really like music and that music is a very big thing in my life. It helps me control my feelings. If you really knew me you would know I have never stabbed someone in the back or betrayed someone.If you really knew me, you would know that I’m not all about gangbanging and that I really don’t care what they say about it. They think I do because of my family member. If you really knew me you would know I’m a caring person and that I don’t like to pick on other people because it makes me feel low. If you really knew me you would know I like to rap. I like making rhymes and beats. If you really knew me you would know that I don’t give a **** what you have to say about me that has to do with gangs or others.
Journal #58
If you really knew me you would know that I don’t give most people the chance to get to know my true self. If you really knew me you would know just by watching me that I am a calm, nice person. In reality on the inside, I’m confused, sad, and calling out for help. If you really knew me you would know that I do not fit in with my peers at school. If you really knew me you would know that if I could start my life over I would, just to take back all the time I spent doing drugs and messing up my life. If you really knew me you would know that I love too much. If you really knew me you would know that I love to jog when I’m frustrated. If you really knew me you would know that my favorite food in the world is chocolate. If you really knew me you would know that I hold back my feelings because of fear I will be hurt.
Journal #59
Well, it seems like I have nothing left in life to look forward to. My life is falling apart. I ran away because I am not getting along with my family. I relapsed and I used drugs once again. I tried to tell people but not in words that you can hear. I turned myself in for only one reason: I had nowhere to go and it’s not that easy to stay gone if you have no place to live.I am so scared because I have court very soon. I hope I don’t get locked up once again. The second day I was back at school seemed like most people were talking **** about me. I got so mad I started to cry, so I decided to leave. I was going to go get stoned or maybe drink a little, but I just went home instead. It seems like I have no friends. If I did, they would have my back, but not one person seemed to have my back.If you really knew me you would know that I have no friends and I have been raped, used, abused, and hurt one too many times. I am not going to take it anymore. If you really knew me you would know that I have no one to talk to and I wish I did.
Journal #60
If you really knew me you would know that I hate rich people.If you really knew me you would know that when I see my Dad, I will beat the **** out of him.If you really knew me you would know I hate fake people.If you really knew me you would know I am in love.If you really knew me you would know I am a very sensitive and loving person.If you really knew me you would know I want to have at least five kids and all of them will love and respect me.If you really knew me you would know I have a lot of unfinished business.
Journal #61
Yesterday I felt bad when a kid at school called me a slut. I acted like it didn’t bother me, but after a while it hit me. He doesn’t have a right to call me this when he doesn’t even know me. He doesn’t even know who I have been with.We went to see the Freedom Writer’s Diary with school and that was when it hit me even harder. I felt alone and like ****. He had hurt me emotionally. That’s when I realized I had a true friend. I was crying and she took me to the bathroom so I could calm down. She told me it was going to be alright and not to listen to what he had said.Now I feel even worse. I really don’t like when people don’t talk to me because they are upset. It makes me feel like a bad person. I hope he can forgive me. I was harsh in my reply I know. I think I lost a homeboy.
Journal #62
I thought EMP was not going to be so bad until it happened. Not only Juvi, but EMP ***** up relations between you and your loved ones. It felt great to be out of the hall the first 30 days of my 90 on EMP. Now **** is really starting to happen. The cutting thing is really starting to look good and then I got back to thinking about the hall. I shift once more and focus on the 60 days that’s left.
Journal #63
If you really knew me you would know that I am struggling with staying clean: not only from Meth, but from everything else. If you really know me you would know that I’m also struggling to stay out of Juvi and struggling to beat the odds and complete EMP. If you really knew me you would know that I know I am going to make it in life, NO MATTER WHAT!

Writing Exchange VI 06-07

WRITING EXCHANGE VIFEBRUARY 7, 2007
Journal #45
I often have no hope because I have lost too many special people in my life. I miss them and that is why I really don’t like a lot of things. I do bad in school. I live in a ****** house and the one that I love hates me now. I felt like killing myself, but I figured there is more to live for. Now I have family and friends and I just found a new lover.
Journal #46
When I first started using drugs I was 12 years old. I liked the feeling it gave me because I felt so much pain and every hit I took of dope and weed the less pain I felt. Now I’m 16 years old. Last year I slowed my use down because I had 3 brothers by my side and now I don’t have one of them.I have so much pain inside, I just want to smoke dope, but I know my big brother is watching over me and I don’t want him to be even more sad. I miss him. Sometimes I just wish God would take me so I could see my brother. I don’t want to be sad anymore. At least when I leave this ****** up world I’ll be happy up there and see my brother. That one sweet day will come.
Journal #47
My beacon of lightI have yet to igniteAnger, rage, painEverything changedYet seems the sameThe room is spinningHere comes a new beginningOh, that’s rightMy beacon of lightI know who it isHis eyesWicked, pure sinHis smileIgnites the fire within
Journal #48
My Beacon of Light that keeps me going is my older brother. He passed away back in 97. Having faith in God and I just figure that I’m finishing my brother’s life. He died from a motorcycle wreck at the age of 19. He and I were closer than a mom and her newborn. I figure if you go through hard times then there is going to be good times too.
Journal #49
Being on EMP is not fun. You have all kinds of rules to follow. You mess up one time and you’re through. When you get out of Juvenile Hall it always feels great, but then my 90 EMP days came and it sucks. It feels like the end is coming, but the truth is your life is truly beginning. It’s like restart on your PS2 and just like that you sit in your home.
Journal #50
I hate living at my house. It is such a piece of ****. Everything about it and my life has gone to nothing at all. I don’t go to a normal school. I don’t have a normal life or family. Everything I do I seem to get in trouble for. I wish I could change my life but I can’t. It’s too ****** up.
Journal #51
My beacon of light is my little brother. He is the reason why I try hard and do my best to succeed. My brother is only six months old and I still know that I need to do my best to make sure he doesn’t have the same horrible childhood that I did because he deserves better than that. He doesn’t need all of that in his life. Just to see my baby brother puts me in an excellent mood when I’m feeling down. I just hold my baby brother and it makes me feel better.To know that I am being successful makes me feel good. My brother is the reason I keep going and keep pushing myself. I see my baby brother and then I hear the words, “I can achieve for you not for me.” Those are the thoughts and sound that runs through my head when I see him. I know that I have to make something of my life and be sure that my brother has a better life than I did as a child. I know that I can achieve so all I do is believe.
Journal #52
I want to go back to my High School. I’m really trying to meet this goal and go back. That is why I’m trying to do my best to reach my goal. I want to play a sport at my High School. I’m trying hard and getting my act together to be good and learn more. I set this goal for myself this school year.I’m here because of the gangs and I’m also trying to be good and stay away from the gang people. I want to become someone special in life. I’m trying to stand up on my own feet and not fall so much in life. I want to stand up on my own and go somewhere far: to improve and show my parents my new life.
Journal #53
The guiding light in my life is my family. If it wasn’t for them I would be locked up because I just wouldn’t give a **** about anything, especially school. This special girl came in my life and I care about her. She pushes me to do good. I am just going to school so I graduate. This will make my parents proud of me. I want to show them that I can do it and to set a good example for my sister and brothers. I love my family. If I had to, I would take all the pain from them so that they could be happy.

Writing Exchange V 06-07

Writing Exchange VJanuary 25th, 2007
Journal #28
A three fold vision of the ageA symbol of the world todayExhibits on a theater stageHumanity in glass portrayed
A crowd of carbon copy clonesThough none of them appear the sameThey all display a common nameA brood of endless mindless drones
A pair of armies bitter foesSecretly together soughtTo instigate a clever plotWhile publicly exchanging blows
A wondrous array of lightsGave sanctuary to the soul‘Til tainted fiction took controlOf men enslaved by sound and sight
A three fold vision of the ageA symbol of the world todayExhibits on a theater stageHumanity in glass portrayed
Journal #29
I have been arrested plenty of times, but you know it isn’t really that fun to get arrested. I remember my first time getting locked up. They threw me in that tiny room and slammed the door on me. It really sucked because I had never been away from my brother. Our whole lives we had been together. We even slept in the same bed until we were twelve. I cried a lot, but I got over it. This last time I went in it was nothing, but still I didn’t want to be there.
Journal #30
Yesterdays experience was a great opportunity for me and my peers to voice our opinions about the Writing Exchange and the effects it has had on us as a school. Since we have started it, I personally believe it has been enlightening and a once in a lifetime experience. When we were being interviewed I felt like I had a voice.
Journal #31
I am always setting goals for myself. As always, I am wanting to lose weight but it never happens. I just like to eat. This is what I want to do and one of these days I will lose weight and will stay healthy. Besides that, I want to be known as a good kid and not as a gang member, but I guess it hasn’t happened that way. It seems to be what everyone notices about me, as if it’s on me.These days are getting very bad, having to listen to all of this **** going on is getting into my head and I just think that if I was in a way different place, I wouldn’t have to listen to people say the same things over and over. I try ignoring it, but they still talk all kinds of ****.
Journal #32
Having someone leave you is very hard. When my mom passed away it was hard. I started doing drugs and drinking and not really giving a **** what happens. I started doing things that changed my life and now I have to live with it. Everyday I think about what happened that day. Still, what happens, happens. Losing a family member sucks. It makes you do **** you didn’t think you would ever do.
Journal #33
All I know is that I do the best I can to be real all the time. I don’t really care about much: **** it. I’m an alcoholic. I love to drink. I’ve been drinking like an alcoholic since I was 14 when I ran away to live with my tweaker *** dad. I hitched from Chico there. I made it in one night and that’s a four hour drive. Anyways, I basically lived on my own. My dad was always gone. Nothing to do in that town but search for that bottle night and day. I was blazen weed like nothing because it grows everywhere up there. I started smoking weed at 9 and never stopped. Basically, I haven’t gone without smoking weed for more than a week in 5 years. When I started doing alcohol instead of weed, I knew I had a problem.
Journal #34
Well, to begin with, I believe that it was a brilliant idea to have the Chico ER come to our school. Knowing that our school is a “County-Court School,” I think it makes us look good as a group. The interviewer was really nice and very respectful. Allowing us to explain how this program is set up made me feel more confident in myself and others to make it work. The Writing Exchange has allowed us to voice our true thoughts, so let’s make it happen.
Journal #35
I believe that all of this gang bullshit is putting people who don’t bang in a tight place. Say if your friends or family are from one gang and one of your friends from back in elementary is in the opposing gang. If you talk to them then everybody will get all up tight as if I was in a gang. I’m not so it really shouldn’t matter who I talk to, especially if they have been my close friend since the 1st grade. Just because he is all wrapped up with the gang stuff doesn’t make him a whole new person. He is still the same. Other people might think he is different, but to me he is exactly the same.All these gangs have done to me is get me caught up and into some messes that take a while to clean up if you know what I mean. I am tired of being told that I can’t talk to one of my very close friends just because he isn’t in the same gang as my brothers. Before they all got wrapped up in gangs, my brothers and my friend’s brother used to kick it all the time. They were introduced to gangs and now they are all at each others throats.To this day my brothers are both still doing what they’ve been doing because they “have to be down.” RIGHT! Gangs have got both of my brothers in trouble, but they keep hanging and staying PROUD. They believe that they need to show that they have pride for where they are from.So now I don’t talk to my friend because I want to show my brothers I care and that I have pride too, but I have pride for myself. That is all. Nobody could ever turn me into my brothers. I will not be a gang member, but I have family pride and if it came down to it, I would have to back my brothers up.
Journal #36
This morning I woke up to my sick one year old nephew crying because he doesn’t feel good. So I got up to make him a bottle, but he didn’t want it. I got him back to sleep.I feel like relapsing because every night my cousin comes home high. I get so mad because I want to do meth so bad but I know I can’t. It also makes me mad that she hasn’t got kicked out yet. She always is complaining about how she can’t afford to pay rent. She is such a ***** to me.My mom doesn’t understand why I want to go do drugs or even why I want to run away. Sometimes I just want to say goodbye and end this so called life I call my own.
Journal #37
My dad passed away in November and it is really hard on all of us kids. My mom and I talk about him and my feelings and about his death. I am doing OK, but my brother is very angry all the time because I don’t think he is talking about it. He is not dealing with his feelings. I think he is holding it all in and that makes me sad to see him like that. I don’t know what I can do. Life is just so stressful right now.
Journal #38
I remember when I was 12. When I came home from school the cops were at my house trying to get my dad. My sister said my dad was hurting her. The cops took me and my siblings and kept us in a back room until they took my dad to jail. After that he got deported. To us it was a relief but it had its disadvantages as well. We moved to Chico and started a new life, looking for a new start.We all grew up to be aggressive and we started changing. We were in gangs, disrespecting our mom and my brothers were in and out of the hall. My dad came back from Mexico and we had thought he had changed until he left a message on our phone saying he would kill us when he found us. We reported it to the Chico Police Department and they found him. It was back to Mexico for him.When people ask if I have a dad, I say “No, he is dead,” but he isn’t. What he did to my life I will never forget. Still, after a while I have said to myself, “He is my dad and I will always love him because he gave me a life.”
Journal #39
I am so sick of trying to fit in: you know, be the part. I feel like I am always duck taping the support poles of my life because I can’t afford new ones. I feel like a backwards Cinderella. I dress nice for school every day. I look nice on the outs but I am so confused and mad. I am mad because I am so confused about being 18 soon. “Try to act like an adult,” is what they tell me. I listen but the more and more I do, I swear the real me is disappearing. I don’t know if that’s good or not, but I guess time will tell. Keep your head up and eyes open.
Journal #40
Day to day I wake up to face another one. It feels more like an obligation. As if I’m being forced to wake up. Although I am thankful for each and every day I am blessed with, I feel like I am cursed. In the mornings I know what I am to face and try to prepare myself as best I can. As a matter of fact if I make it to the end of the night I thank the lord for helping me survive, but at the same time I dread it because I know I’ll have to wake up in a few hours to face the same ****. It’s not that I fear what I’ve got to put up with, but I’m ******* tired of it. That is my life day to day.
Journal #41
I look at myself as someone unique and different from other people. That is what a lot of people tell me. I’ve made some pretty dumb decisions in my life so I guess I am dumb. I was with this guy and it turned out that he was a ******* jerk. He was my best friend at first. Then we went out and soon he started treating me like ****. I’d say I am alone on the inside, but not on the out. I look at life differently. I see how people act and what they do around me to see who they really are. I’m a loving and sometimes happy person, but I am emotional. I’d say my life is like a soap opera.
Journal #42
I see myself as one of a kind. I don’t know why. I can be nice when I want to be and I can be an ******* too. Sometimes I think I am bipolar because I can be mad and in a minute I can be happy. I don’t know why I am like that. Sometimes I feel like saying “**** everything,” and I don’t trust anybody in this world. I think I have two sides of me: a good side and a bad side. Sometimes I feel like being locked up because it keeps me away from everything and I don’t have to worry about anything.
Journal #43
My dad was hospitalized after he got in a car crash. He actually drove off the road and hit and ran over four walnut trees. He had lots of broken bones. He is in the ICU right now. His wife, my step mom, said he was trying to kill himself. He did the same things when he and my mom split up. It’s like he doesn’t care about his family.
Journal # 44
I’m livin with these crooked waysI’ma die in a misfortunate wayHope for better but expect shady daysOne on One watch them run awayThey come back in a crowd now listen to my gun playWatch these politicians and laws with their devilish waysThey give a **** what we sayIt’s a working scheme cause ourselves is who we slayThis life is like a mazeUsed to look for an out, ey,But there is none till my body is six feet deep where it lays**** it, live the rest of my days in a dazeBecause now I am dysfunctional if my mind isn’t in a hazeSo where you see, damn right I’m blazedNegativity is not what I wanted to portrayBut I had no choice cause I’m forced to live with these crooked ways.

Writing Exchange IV 06-07

Writing Exchange IVJanuary 8, 2007
Journal #21
I remember back in the days when my brothers and I used to be close. As we got a lot older life was so messed up and we began to grow even closer and we saw that we only had each other.I remember when I first went to Juvenile Hall. I was 12 years old. As the years grew, I became a wild child and didn’t care about much of anything.I remember the nightmare. I’m in a very dark room and smoking dope and my thoughts are all messed up. Suddenly I see this man with a cape on and he looks at me and says, “I’m your life.” I hit him with a left right left and another right. Damn, who is this guy? It is the Grim Reaper. This **** is getting much deeper.I miss being a little girl. I wish I never got into any kind of trouble because from the first time I did, I haven’t been the same since. What happened to me and my family doing fun stuff? It seems like I can’t depend on anyone else anymore. I trust no one except my 3 brothers and my mother. I don’t even trust my dad. He has never been there for me or my brothers.
Journal #22
Sometimes I think about my life and I ask myself how my life is going to be. Is it going to be another bloody day or another day behind bars? What is it going to be like? I know that there are a lot of people that say they love me, but every time I need them to be there for me, they disappear. I am not getting any love other than from my older brother. With all the pain that I have been through, he is the only one who could feel my pain because he has the same pain. He is behind bars right now. I know life is hard, but you just have to deal with the life that you were given by your mom and dad.Have you ever felt like you’re alone? By yourself, do you cry so many times for somebody to come and help you, but no one is there to help? What am I supposed to do without any love? I guess life is a living hell for me right now and I just have to live with it.
Journal #23I remember when I was five and we were moving and my sister was crying. My dad was telling her everything would be OK. I remember when the cops came and took my mom and my sister threw me down on the ground. I remember most recently when the cops raided my house again and took my dad, mom, niece, and nephew. My life sucks right now. I look forward to my dad getting out on the 20th and my mom on the 21st.
Journal #24
I remember drinking with my friends and kicking it all night.I remember staying up until the sun rose and going to school once every month.I remember tripping out and spending all my money on drugs just to get a good high and coming down and realizing that I had just spent all my money and didn’t even have a quarter left and nothing to show for it.I remember parties every night, hangovers, stomach aches, and regrets.I remember a life that took away my innocenceand childhood.I remember a life that decreased my chances of graduating and going on to college.I remember that this was my past and that now it is behind me. I’m over it and I can start over and just keep these things as things I remember and not things that I am living with in the present.
Journal #25
I’m doing OK, but I’ve been better. I have still been depressed. My dad’s wife broke up with him. Now it sounds like he is doing good, but the little I know my dad, he’s probably on drugs. My brother and I are both bi-polar and we’re both on meds. Although they don’t seem to work to well as we are fighting every day. My step dad pays little attention to me and my whole brother but more than enough attention to his son.The last four guys I went out with, I thought could be the one. They each cheated on me and made me feel like ****. I’m just trying to find the right one to fill my heart. I realize that my dad not being in my life makes me want a boyfriend even more. I hold in my emotion all throughout the day. When I feel like exploding I show a smile on my face. I try to stay up when my world is falling down. I try to smile instead of showing my frown.
Journal #26
I was an angry kid.I remember my mom dying.I heard someone talk about a deathI saw the death.I thought I was never going to make it in lifeI am an angry teen.I think the world is messed up.I need to go to college. I need to graduate from high school.I try being good.I feel trapped inside myself.I forgive that one girl in the back of my head.I will be a happy personI choose a good lifeI dream that I will be successfulI hope I don’t go to prisonI predict I will be successfulI know I will make my life good.I will change.
Journal #27
Since I am a Mexican girl, people labeled me as being someone who would get pregnant by 15 or 16 and I was going to be a **** up. When I went to my last school, a teacher just by knowing my last name said they knew I was going to be another gang member and trouble maker in their school. They also thought I was going to end up on probation and in the hall. Now that I am here, they think that what they thought of me is true.One day I went to my old school to visit and they asked if I had already become another **** up for my family. I said, “NO!” I’m not on probation and I never will step a foot in the hall. I’m not pregnant. Yes, I am a gang member, but I don’t know if that is a choice. To quit gangs…my life is on the line both ways, in or out of gangs. I would like to break what people have predicted for me. It’s on everything that I will prove them wrong!

Thank You Chico Rotary!

The Chico Rotary has been an incredible support to the Writing Exchange by bringing printing costs down, giving a $500 grant to help publish student work this year, and in establishing a site for the next Sueños de los Jóvenes(Dreams of the Youth) Fundraiser!
NCCS and SCCS Students and Staff Thank you